Home and Heart
by enchantedstarlight
Summary: Sequel to "The Journey Home." Ginny has come to terms with her grief, but her life remains in turmoil as a new mystery brings her back to the one place she doesn't want to be.
1. Chapter 1 Awakening

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the HP characters that are used here. I do not receive compensation for this work, except for reviews, which are most welcome

This is the sequel to "The Journey Home" and will contain references to that story, so you should probably read that first. Note, there is sexual reference in this chapter.

The morning sun streamed in through the window, causing Ginny to burrow under the pillow in irritation. She'd been in a perfectly deep sleep and enjoying a happy dream of being in a sunny meadow, picking wildflowers with her brother, Fred. He picked her up and swung her around like he always had when she was small. He was laughing. He was happy. For that moment, he was alive again. She wanted it to stay that way.

She drifted off again, returning to the dream, losing herself in the happy moment. She could smell spring in the breeze, and feel Fred's arms holding her securely as he danced playfully with her in the field. It was more than a dream, more than a memory. It was a special time for her and her wonderful, courageous brother. She wanted it to go on forever, but eventually, like all happy moments, the laughter faded and they stood together quietly, looking out over the stream behind their house.

She studied the area, almost exactly as she remembered it from her childhood, but then she noticed a path beyond the stream, one that hadn't been there before. It looked inviting, as if begging to be explored, and Ginny remembered how many times she'd followed her twin brothers on similar adventures. Those days were over now, and they hadn't gotten into such innocent mischief in years.

But she noticed that Fred was looking at it, then he looked back to her. She knew as some base level that he was going to explore that mysterious little trail, and that she wasn't going with him. She felt cheated. It wasn't right for him to be going without his twin, or his little sister, tagging along.

"I've got to go now, Bug," he said, addressing her by the nickname he'd always used for her when they were children.

She looked toward the path again, realizing that when Fred walked down that path on his adventure, he wouldn't be returning. Something deep in her core told her that, when he left, it would be for the last time. With all her heart, she didn't want that to happen, and a jolt of fear ripped through her.

"No, you can't!" she said desperately, wanting to keep him there with her for as long as possible. She would stay in this meadow forever, if it meant he could be with her, alive and well. She grabbed at his hand, pulling him toward her, trying to tug him away from the stream and back toward their house. "The joke's over, Fred," she said desperately, trying to reason with him. "It wasn't funny making us all think you were dead. It's time to stop fooling around and come home!"

He shook his head, an uncharacteristic look of apology on his face.

"It wasn't a joke, Bug. I just came back because I want you to know that I'm all right."

She felt a bit of indignation that he wasn't listening, much like a small child who was not getting her way, but, in that moment, she didn't care. "If you're all right, then can't you please come home? Just for a little while longer?" she pleaded, in a tone that had always managed to get him to relent to her when she was small.

He shook his head, smiling gently and sadly. "I'm sorry. It doesn't work that way."

Tears came to her eyes. At a deep level, she understood, but she didn't want to. He was here. He was real. She could feel his hand in hers. It was warm. She could smell the grass and flowers around her, even though she was well-aware that it was winter outside.

"No," she pleaded in a small, cracked voice, begging him to change his mind, knowing that he wouldn't.

He stepped closer and hugged her then, and she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him back fiercely, burying her face in his shirt. "I miss you, Fred. I miss you so much," she sobbed.

They stood there, holding each other tightly for a several minutes, and he held her protectively, stroking her hair while she cried softly. Eventually, her sobs quieted, and she came to accept the sad truth. Fred pulled away, still holding her hands as he looked her in the eyes, his gaze open and honest. "Everything's going to be ok," he said, his expression more serious than she had ever seen. "I was looking out for you the whole time, but I've got to go. You've got others to look out for you now. You'll be ok, Bug."

Her lip trembled slightly. She understood. She didn't want to understand or accept it, but it was the way the universe worked. She had to accept it. He was here to say goodbye. At least she had him for that moment and she could treasure that.

"I love you, Fred," she said softly.

He smiled then, his lips lifting in a familiar quirky manner that hinted of joy, mischief and love. "Well, of course you do. Who wouldn't?"

She laughed, and something in her heart lightened, as if the sorrow had been physically lifted from her.

"Don't cause too much trouble," she advised.

He grinned again, reached up and ruffled her hair and then stepped back. He was fading now and moving in the direction of the inviting path, but she could still see him. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said, although it was quite clear he was telling a lie. She almost felt sorry for whoever would have to contend with him now. Almost. The thought made her laugh. Her ridiculously wonderful brother grinned back at her, knowing that he was going to be up to no good and it was their own little secret.

"I love you, Bug. Give 'em hell for me, yeah?"

She nodded vigorously and waved, smiling in return as he drifted away. Fred had always been that way. He'd always been able to make her feel better regardless of what might have made her sad. She would still miss him horribly, but being able to say farewell would help her bear the burden.

He'd said that he'd been there the whole time, and that made her feel comforted. Her half-conscious thoughts opened her mind to realize that she'd been wrapped up in anger and sorrow for so long that, even if he had been there, she couldn't have seen him because she'd closed herself off to the world, and to him. It was time to let it all go. Fred would rather that she help carry on his legacy and live her life with the same joy that he had. She could do that. For him.

As she snuggled more deeply into the soft covers, a profound sense of peace and contentment enveloped her. She would always miss her brother, but she felt better knowing he was still somewhere in this universe, causing his relentless mischief, and he was safe and happy.

After a few minutes of resting, her mind started to wake from its sleepy haze and she shifted again, noticing that the bed was far more comfortable than the little cot that she had become accustomed to sleeping on in her tiny, one-room apartment.

She'd awoken in this bedroom once before but, unlike the last time, she didn't feel quite so out of place. She was dressed in men's pajamas, although they were ridiculously soft, and she turned to see the blond head of her companion sleeping next to her. Just like the last time, she admired how beautiful and young he looked in sleep.

Fred had told her others were looking out for her. Was Draco Malfoy one of them?

She watched the young man sleep, his long eyelashes fluttering slightly as he dreamed. He'd suffered the loss of his father in the same violent manner that she'd lost her brother, at the hand of the same ruthless and unscrupulous people. She'd seen the hurt and loneliness in his eyes that she'd seen in her own. Unwittingly, they were on a quest to find the same murderer and somehow they'd found each other along the way.

He hadn't needed to take her back to his home. After they'd finished giving their statement to Moody and the Aurors, Draco could have simply left. Instead, he'd waited for her to finish her interviews and then escorted her back here. At the time, she'd been too exhausted to think about why. Her first visit to Draco's home had been strictly about sex, but this time had been the opposite. His only touches had been a comforting arm around her waist as they Apparated, or a gentle touch on her arm or shoulder as he guided her around the house, showing her the bath and guest room, then directing the elf to see to her needs.

After that, he'd disappeared, she assumed so that he could take care of his own personal hygiene, leaving her with the elf. After she'd bathed and dressed, it had been her decision to walk past the guest room and into his. Then, even after she'd crawled into his bed, he'd simply folded her into a welcoming embrace and told her to go to sleep.

Without question, she realized that his actions were those of someone who cared about her. Thinking back, she realized that the moment he'd interrupted her first conversation with Flint, it was because he cared enough to try to keep her out of trouble. During the subsequent challenge, he'd tried to back out several times, but she wouldn't allow it. In the end, she'd given herself to him without regret.

During their time together hiding from the giants in the hills of Hellvillon, she'd seen a different side of him and, surprisingly, they'd even been able to talk without arguing. He had helped her on her quest to get information, and tried to keep her from Flint, knowing that Flint likely wouldn't have hesitated to dispose of her if he knew she was trying to gather information about his unscrupulous dealings.

Also, he had admitted that he'd been fancying her ever since she'd hexed him at the end of her fifth year.

She couldn't help but chuckle quietly to herself at that thought.

If all it took was to hex a boy to get his attention, she might have done so more often. Then, she might not have needed to wait so long for Harry to notice her. But, Harry was far from her thoughts and he had been for some time.

The blond stirred, mumbling something softly in his sleep and she watched him fondly. He really was a handsome bloke. She wondered why she hadn't noticed that sooner, but she hadn't had the opportunity to observe him much before, especially in situations where he was looking so unguarded. More importantly, having seen another side of his personality over the past few days, she realized that she had drastically changed her opinion of him in many ways.

When she'd analyzed why she'd slept with him before, she had come to the conclusion that it was because she had thought that there would be no emotional attachment to him. She'd been looking for a physical release to all the anger that she had bottled inside, and she'd justified to herself that he'd been convenient, nothing more. But, since then, she'd developed a strange fondness for the young man with the Dark Mark on his arm. She sighed. She actually liked the prat.

He rolled toward her, one arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer. His touch was gentle and warm, and she snuggled into his body willingly, once again allowing his closeness to comfort her.

Never, ever would she have dreamed of feeling so safe in the arms of this man.

His hold tightened slightly and she felt him press a soft kiss against her temple. "Good morning," he said sleepily.

Damn him. He was being rather sweet and adorable again, just as he'd been the night previously. She felt a warm stirring in her chest and came to the conclusion that she liked him quite a lot. Worse, she was fully aware of the fact that she found him very, very attractive. In a moment of epiphany, she realized that she was falling for him.

The realization frightened her, and she felt her body stiffen slightly.

"You don't have to go," he said quietly

She sighed in defeat, relaxing again. When she really thought about it, she didn't want to go. She'd been angry and bitter for so long that she was tired of it all. Somehow, fighting herself about developing feelings for Malfoy just seemed like too much effort.

Wanting to look at him, she turned slightly and wrapped her free arm over him, returning his embrace. He was wearing pajama bottoms, but no top, and she took a moment to admire his form as her gaze traveled up to his face. A soft smile graced his perfect lips and his eyes shown with something akin to hopefulness.

The fingers of her free hand reached up to touch his cheek, then trace along that gentle smile. She wanted to kiss him.

"I'm sorry I intruded in your room last night. You were so kind to set up the guest room..."

He shook his head. "I'm glad you stayed."

"I probably should go home. I've taken up enough of your hospitality."

His smile faltered. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need," he said, his hand giving her waist a light squeeze.

She closed her eyes, unable to meet the intensity of his gaze. He was silently willing her to stay and she realized that it was something she really wanted also.

When she opened her eyes, he was still looking at her, albeit sadly. He'd helped her, and she wanted to do something to thank him. The urge to kiss him became stronger, and she gave up trying to resist. She leaned in and gently pressed her lips to his.

He returned the kiss immediately, and she felt him give a soft sigh, wrapping his arm more securely around her. She relaxed into the kiss, and she could almost feel him smiling as their lips pressed together, and she couldn't help but smile back. His joy in the moment was contagious and she found that she wanted more and he seemed more than willing to comply. His hands remained chastely around her waist, while his mouth moved along her cheek, toward her ear, in short, playful pecks.

She giggled.

It was a monumental moment for Ginny, if only because she realized that she hadn't openly giggled over anything in far too long.

Mumbling something about her laughter, he rolled onto his back, pulling her body with his, so that she was lying partially on top of him. Still smiling, she pulled away just enough to look at him, gently brushing his fringe from his eyes. The lost look he'd had only moments before had disappeared, and was now replaced with genuine happiness, and she was rather pleased that she'd had something to do with that.

"You always seem so intense," she remarked.

He responded with a short grunt, not quite a laugh, although it seemed that her words amused him. "Only when I'm focused on getting what I want," he replied.

She bit her lip. "And what is it that you want?" she asked, somewhat playfully, still resting on his bare chest.

He lifted a hand to brush a strand of her hair back behind her ear. "Isn't it obvious?"

She released a heavy breath, feeling a blush redden her cheeks because of his insinuation. Trying to keep the mood light, she responded, "Well, I would think it's not all that unusual for any man to react that way when he wakes up to finding a woman in his bed, no matter what the circumstances."

"Yet, you don't seem to be in a hurry to leave," he said with a smirk.

Becoming very self-conscious, she began to pull away, but his arm tightened slightly, stopping her.

"Don't leave, Ginevra. I promise not to attack you," he said, almost worriedly, but then, a little devilish grin came to his lips and he added, "However, you are the one on top right now, and I thought I'd inform you that if you do decide to ravish me, I won't object."

She gave him a light smack on his chest. "Git."

He smiled again, and she couldn't help but appreciate how relaxed he was at the moment. "You call me names now, and only a few minutes ago, you were thanking me for being nice. How fickle of you."

Deciding that she couldn't possibly let him get away with such a remark, she grabbed the soft pillow and smacked it into his somewhat smug-looking face.

He moved like a cat in response. In one swift and graceful movement, he released her, ripped the pillow from her grasp and flung it aside, rolling over and pinning her beneath him.

"Hey!" she squeaked, yet, she found herself grinning up at him.

"You, my dear Ginevra, are far too impulsive for your own good."

She raised her eyebrow and looked at him skeptically. "And you are far too smug."

"I'm a Malfoy. It's my duty to be smug."

She reached around, trying to grab another pillow, but he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head, settling his body solidly on top of hers to keep her from attacking him some other way.

"What happened to me being on top to ravish you?" she asked, somewhat indignantly.

"I'm afraid you lost that privilege when you turned to violence," he said with a superior smile.

She dropped her head back on the bed and gave an overly dramatic sigh. "I'll never forgive myself. I was so looking forward to the opportunity."

"Well, if you are a good girl, I might give you another chance," he replied with mock seriousness.

She chuckled. "That will likely never happen."

"I know," he said. "Which is one of the reasons I like you so much, I think."

The humor left her expression. Once again, he'd implied that he had some sort of feelings for her. Before she could respond, he leaned down to kiss her and she had no desire to stop him.

He released her hands almost immediately, and she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back with equal enthusiasm.

It was so different than what had happened between them during their first encounter in this room, Ginny couldn't help but compare. It wasn't as impulsive as that first time, but it was certainly just as intense. His kiss was soft, yet insistent, and she welcomed and returned. There was no demand, no dare, no challenge. Instead, each seemed to silently ask for the other's permission as they kissed and caressed each other.

He ran his hands along the soft silk of her pajamas, feeling each curve, and she did the same, touching him, tracing him, exploring in a much slower, more intimate pace than their first interaction.

Still, the intensity of their actions left her breathless and heated, and she welcomed it when he finally began to finger the buttons on the front of her nightshirt. She helped him unfasten them, watching his eyes follow every movement of her fingers as each button was released.

He placed a hand over hers before she could begin to slip out of the garment. "I know things went a bit fast the last time. I don't want you to feel pressured."

Again, she noticed how he was being remarkably thoughtful. She was getting used to that, and thought that he seemed so different from the ice prince that she'd known in Hogwarts. Times had changed for the both of them, making her curious to learn more about him, but those were thoughts for another time. "I have no regrets about that night," she said.

It wasn't hard to decide that she wanted to continue. With an impulsive grin, she removed the nightshirt, watching his reaction as she stripped off the garment.

He reminded her of a child at Christmas. His eyes widened and a small, joyful smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He didn't notice her rolling her eyes in amusement because, understanding that he'd been given permission, he became totally fixated on giving her newly exposed breasts attention.

Her smile disappeared as soon as he began to caress her nipple, the sensation taking her breath away.

"You like that, do you?" he asked, while his fingers left the nipple and traced along the underside of her breast, moving up along the side, and finally lightly tracing her collarbone and neck, his eyes following his fingers along the entire path.

She swallowed, acutely aware of the warmth growing in her gut with every action. She nodded.

His fingers moved up her neck and traced her jawline, and his eyes finally looked into hers. "Good," he said, leaning down to kiss her again. She had a split second to notice the old, familiar smugness to his tone, but decided to ignore it because she thought she might melt when his lips met hers.

As he kissed, his hands continued to trace along her body, lightly caressing and she thought she might lose all coherent thought. During their last time together, she'd pressured him to continue, and part of her wanted to do so again, but she forced herself to relax, allowing him to take his time to explore. He kissed his way along her torso, slowly working his way down her stomach, causing her breath to become progressively more shallow.

When she felt his explorations reach the waistband of her pajama pants, she gasped for air. Their heated previous tryst was nothing compared to the slow, burning passion that seemed to encompass them this time and it frightened her just a little bit.

But she was also aware that she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life. When he tugged on her waistband she eagerly lifted her hips to help remove the pajama pants. She found herself mesmerized as she watched him slowly and reverently tug the garment down her legs, kissing her along the way as he exposed new skin.

She felt like she needed to participate more actively, and started to sit up, but he moved to place a hand on her stomach, pressing her back onto the bed, shaking his head slightly.

Confused, she lay back down, still watching him as he tossed the garment aside and placed a soft kiss on her knee. Then another and another, each one a bit higher than the last, his lips and tongue tasting her as he casually moved along. His hand caressed the back of her leg, gently stroking, almost tickling as he moved along, while his hungry mouth steadily worked toward her inner thigh. His body moved gracefully as he positioned himself between her knees, encouraging her to spread her legs wider as each kiss moved further up her inner thigh toward her core.

Realizing where he was headed, she gasped and gripped the sheets, partially in fear. She'd read about such ministrations in many of the overly descriptive romance novels that she and her friends had enjoyed reading in the late nights at school, but she had never imagined anyone actually performing the act on her. Noticing her reaction, he paused long enough to give her a devilish grin before continuing on his quest, and she, once again, found her breath coming in short gasps of anticipation.

She was fully open to him now, her legs spread wide, and her most private parts bared and vulnerable to him. Unlike their first time, she wasn't in command of the situation and it unnerved her slightly. Their last encounter had been about control, almost dominance. Ginny had commanded the situation and everything had been on her own terms. This was the complete opposite; it was about trust and surrender.

"Relax," he commanded gently as his kisses moved a little higher up her leg, and his hand began to reach under her, cupping her bum.

She tried, forcing herself to take a deep breath, as he once again paused to look up at her, his eyes dark and intense. Her body was so ready for him that she thought she might explode if he didn't continue, and that was when she gave over to the passionate emotion that was now consuming her. The feelings of fight and anger had long left her, and she was letting go of the last of her resistance. She allowed her body to release, opening her legs wider and allowing him full access.

Then, his lips touched her core and she felt as if she was going to die from the intensity of it. She moaned, and could almost feel him smile against her sensitive skin. He gave the area a light lick, and then continued, using his lips and tongue to bring her body to a heaven that she had never previously imagined. She clutched the sheets tightly, moaning with each movement, her head thrown back, completely unashamed of being on such display to him.

When she climaxed, it was a feeling of total ecstasy, and she cried out, feeling completely spent. She collapsed back onto the sheets exhausted, although she couldn't help but notice his grin as he proceeded to kiss his way back up her body as he positioned himself on top of her.

"Must you be so smug?" she asked, still panting from the exertion.

"When it is appropriate to be so, yes," he replied, still grinning.

She raised her hips, pulling him closer, unfortunately realizing that he was quite right.

He sunk into her immediately, releasing a satisfied groan, his grin fading quickly as his base instincts took over. It was her turn to give a satisfied grin. "Two can play at that," she said.

"I'm sure," he replied, leaning down to kiss her neck, as he pulled out and pressed back into her.

She decided that there would be time to talk later, and allowed herself to appreciate the sensation of him filling her completely.

Sequel to "The Journey Home." Ginny has finally come to terms with her grief, but much of her life remains in turmoil as a new mystery beckons her back to the one place she doesn't want to be, to find the key that will free her lover from his family's past mistakes.

A/N - as always, your reviews are welcomed and encouraged. When a writer posts a fic, it is giving you, the reader, a gift. Giving a review is like saying thank you to the gift.


	2. Chapter 2 Home Comes Calling

Ginny woke up some time later, and drowsily looked over at the man sleeping next to her. His hair was tousled, and his face looked surprisingly young as he slept. He looked content.

Noticing the change of light in the room, she realized that it was nearly noon. Deciding not to wake her companion just yet, she rolled over and looked out the window at the cold, winter sunlight, thinking of how much she'd changed since she'd encountered Malfoy, and how much she'd learned since leaving the Burrow last September.

She suddenly realized that, in all the time that she had been away, not once had she been in contact with her family.

Initially, when she'd skipped away from the train station, she had assumed that they would simply think she was at school, at least for the first few days, then, most certainly, someone would have informed her parents that she had gone missing. Yet, over the past three months, her parents had never come looking for her. After all, she'd been hiding in plain sight and had been working at the Ministry. It was hardly as if she had gone into hiding, or had run very far away.

No, she might be young and still a bit naive, but she wasn't stupid. She had figured that Kingsley had likely sent her parents an owl within an hour after she'd left his office on that very first day when she'd walked in and asked for a job. She'd understood it at a base level at the time, but had been too preoccupied with her own situation to ponder it thoroughly.

In a way, things had gone so smoothly during those first few days that she likely should have questioned if her parents had been well-aware of her whereabouts from the very beginning.

Not that she'd had an easy time of it in the least. She'd walked out of the King's Cross with nothing but her school trunk and a handful of knuts for spending money. After leaving Moody's office and knowing she'd found a job, she had taken her school trunk to the nearest second hand shop and sold most of her school clothing, books and supplies to buy clothing appropriate for work.

For the first few days, she found a couch in an empty office at the Ministry and slept there until she got her first paycheck and was able to find an affordable room to rent.

After the first month, when she realized that she truly could manage to live on her own, she'd felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.

But, in all that time, she'd never been able to tell anyone in her family about her new life.

So, as she lay in bed, recounting the events that had led her to this point, one of the most pressing thoughts in her head was that, after three months, it was probably time to send a note home, to tell her parents that she was all right and explain why she hadn't returned to Hogwarts for her final year.

It was time to face them and all the reasons why she'd run away.

The sound of movement outside the bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts and she pulled the covers up over herself more securely. Her companion stirred from the sound of the commotion. Just as she wrapped the sheet over her torso, the door opened to reveal a very distraught Winky.

"Master! Master and Mistress must wake up!"

The blond emitted an irritated groan. "What is it, Winky?"

His tone implied that Winky seemed to have a habit of overreacting a bit, which made Ginny smile a bit.

"We have visitors, Master!" the elf said excitedly, as if that explained everything.

Brushing the fringe from his eyes, Draco scowled at the elf. "Well, send him away! Tell them to leave a note or something. I'm not ready to see visitors."

"I told them you were sleeping, Master, but they said they are here to see Mistress."

She nearly dropped her sheet in surprise. "Me?"

"Yes, Mistress," the elf said seriously. "They say they are your parents."

At that moment, the distinctive screech that could only be associated with Molly Weasley echoed down the hall. "Ginny? Ginny! Where are you? We know you're here!"

She gasped. Looking quickly between the elf and Draco, she found herself in a state of sudden panic.

Fortunately, Draco seemed to be a bit more capable of rational thought than she was at the moment. He jumped from the bed, apparently not caring if the elf saw him naked, and grabbed his pajama pants, tugging them on quickly while he silently motioning to the elf to retrieve his robe. He turned to her, looking hurried, but relatively calm. "I'll stall them while you get dressed."

Then, he leaned over to give her a quick kiss, and she felt the panic ebb away.

He rushed out of the room, the nervous elf hurrying after him, and she immediately jumped from the bed to retrieve the pajamas that she'd worn the night before. She knew she didn't have much time. The sounds she heard, without a doubt, involved her worried mother storming through the house in search of her wayward daughter.

Suddenly, she felt like a ten-year old child again.

It wasn't surprising that they'd deduced she was here. With her father's contacts at the Ministry, her parents had likely been informed that she'd been missing for the past two days and had been worried about her during the entire weekend incident. She also figured that her parents were also notified when she had been found, and had likely hurried down to the Ministry to retrieve her, only to have a half-dozen Aurors inform them that they had seen her leave with a former Death Eater. Without a doubt, her mother was in a near panic.

She quickly buttoned her pajamas, grabbed the matching silk robe, thinking that the item was far too nice to belong to a man, and rushed out to stop her parents from harming her lover before he had a chance to defend himself.

Unfortunately, she had no idea what she might say to stop an altercation. She'd barely begun to sort out this strange relationship that seemed to be forming between herself and Draco. She couldn't deny that it was a relationship. They'd talked. They'd had sex more than once. Yet, she truly had no idea how he felt, or if they'd even see each other again. She simply wasn't prepared to have her parents find her at his home, dressed in his pajamas. It led to having much too much to explain that she didn't quite understand herself.

Racing toward the lounge, she nearly collided into Draco, who had apparently been making a valiant attempt at stopping the Weasley parents from charging further down the hall. She'd arrived just in time; her mother looked angry and determined. She had drawn her wand and looked ready to hex at any moment.

"Mum..."

The mixture of relief and anger on her mother's face was almost comical. It seemed clear that both of her parents had several months of worry and frustration to vent, and, in that instant, Ginny felt bad that she'd caused them so much concern. For a moment, just a moment, she thought she might be able to diffuse the situation, but then she saw her mother take a good look at the both of them, dressed in pajamas and clearly having just gotten out of bed.

Her mother's relief at seeing her daughter safe was not likely enough to overcome the implications.

Ginny saw her mother take a deep breath and prepared herself for the worst. She was not disappointed.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley! What in the name of Merlin is going on here?"

"Mum," she said again, albeit a bit defensively.

"Don't you 'Mum' me young lady!" the older witch lectured sternly. "You left school without a word to us. You've made no effort to tell us where you are or what you were up to, and then we got a message from Kingsley last night saying that they had to go to find you out in the woods somewhere and that you'd been in trouble."

"But, Mum..." she said again, looking helplessly at her father, who was standing silently next to his angry wife, looking quite angry himself. That was more unsettling than her mother's banshee imitation; her father never got angry with her.

But her attention was quickly focussed solely on her mother, who seemed determined to release three full months of frustration.

"Do you know what we went through looking for you last night?" the woman continued, barely pausing to draw a breath. "We were beside ourselves trying to find you. We went to that horrible place you've been living at and waited for most of the night, and you never came home! Finally, we were able to find Alastor and he told us that you left the Ministry with HIM!" she said accusingly, her finger pointing menacingly at Malfoy. "Do you have any idea how long it took us to find this place? Alastor could only give us the street name."

Ginny gulped, unsure of how to stop her mother's tirade, although, she was amused that Moody hadn't given the full address to her parents. He knew full well where Draco lived.

"After all these weeks, you'd think you would finally come to your senses and come home. If it hadn't been for Alastor and Kingsley sending us owls to let us know that they knew where you were and were looking out for you, I would have dragged you back home for a good punishment weeks ago!"

Ginny gasped. She'd been prepared for her mother's wrath, but the words hurt. She was seventeen, granted, still young, but most certainly of legal age. The idea of being punished as if she was a child pushed her temper to the limit. She drew in a deep breath, preparing herself to shout back with just as much volume and intensity, but she stopped when she felt a reassuring hand rest on her shoulder.

"Mrs. Weasley, please..." she heard Draco say in a deep, calm voice.

Molly Weasley's eyes whipped over to the young man, her anger suddenly redirected. "How could you? How dare you take advantage of my innocent daughter like this?"

"Molly..." Arthur Weasley started to say with a hint of warning.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Draco repeated, firmly, but not quite shouting.

Molly quieted, crossing her arms, as if demanding an explanation.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I'm sorry for any inconvenience that we've caused you, but after we left, I didn't want to leave Ginevra alone. I thought it was best if she stayed in my guest room."

Ginny's eyebrow raised as she looked over her shoulder at the blond. It wasn't a lie. He had indeed been a gentleman and had offered her the guest room. He had merely left out the fact that she hadn't actually used the guest room.

"Oh, really," Molly said, quite skeptically.

Draco turned to the elf, who had been cowering off to the side, awaiting orders, if needed. "Winky, when I came home last night, what did I ask you to do?"

The elf looked at the Weasleys then turned to its master. "Master ordered Winky to prepare a bath for Miss Weasley and find something suitable for her to sleep in. Then, Master told me to prepare the guest room and attend to anything Miss Weasley might need."

"And what did I do, Winky?"

"Master went to his room."

Ginny looked back at her mother, who had quieted considerably. In fact, her mother seemed almost abashed over her outburst and accusation.

Nevertheless, her apology was terse. "Well, then, I suppose I should thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

Ginny relaxed a bit, knowing that one disaster had been averted. But her relief was short-lived. Her mother turned to her again only a moment later. "We still need to discuss why you ran off, young lady, and why you haven't contacted any of your family for over three months."

She had no response but, again, the reassuring hand on her shoulder gave a light squeeze in silent support.

"I was planning to go see you today, actually."

"She was," Draco said in agreement. "We were just discussing having Winky get her something appropriate to change into, since her dress didn't fare very well while we were crawling around among the rocks in Helvillon." He turned and nodded to Winky, who seemed to understand his command and popped away.

"I don't like this, Ginny," her mother said, looking between her daughter and the young man, her calmer tone seeming to berate the girl far more effectively than her initial shouting. Ginny found herself shrinking in shame.

"I don't understand it myself, Mum. I just knew that I couldn't go back to school. I just couldn't. And, I couldn't face any of you. I don't think I knew why, until maybe yesterday."

She saw her father looking at her sympathetically, giving her some hope that both of her parents would eventually try to understand her choice to leave school and effectively run away from her family.

Winky appeared at that moment, holding a pair of sweat pants and a black and gold Quidditch jersey, offering the items to Ginny, who welcomed the distraction gratefully.

"We'll wait for you to change," her mother stated.

"Mum, I'm seventeen. I'm sure I can find my way home by myself."

Her mother sniffed. "I have my doubts. You haven't found your way home for three months."

Casting an apologetic look at her blond companion, she took the clothing and went into the bathroom to change, feeling a bit guilty about leaving him there alone with her parents.

When she returned, she found that the group had moved to the dining room and Winky had brought out a tea service. They weren't speaking and were making an obvious effort to focus on their tea, although she caught her parents looking up frequently to glance at the blond with suspicion.

She kept silent also, feeling uncomfortable. Her goodbye to Draco was a softly muttered, "Thank you," which he acknowledged with a nod, before she obediently followed her parents out of the house and back to the Burrow.

X

A few hours later, Ginny curled up in a chair in front of the fireplace and pulled one of her mother's knitted blankets around her, drawing comfort from the familiar item and staring blankly into the fire. It was good to be home, although it hadn't been exactly the homecoming that she'd expected.

However, she was indeed home now. It wasn't hard to decide to leave the single room apartment that she'd been living in and return to her room in the Burrow, at least for the time-being. Despite her mother's initial temper tantrum, Ginny wanted to be home. She knew that she needed to return and heal the rift that she'd created between herself and her family.

Sounds of her mother's dinner preparations came from the direction of the kitchen and Ginny looked toward the room, feeling awkward that she wasn't in there helping. Her mother was still in a bit of a tiff since they'd found her that morning, and she'd insisted that Ginny leave the kitchen and finish settling back in.

"How does it feel to be home?" her father asked, entering the room and sitting in the chair across from her.

She caught the concern in his voice and glanced over toward the kitchen, knowing that his question was really asking about how she and her mother were getting along. Yes, her arrival had been awkward, but she knew her parents still loved her.

"It's good. My room feels so big compared to the place I'd been living in for the past few months."

He gave a gentle smile. "I'm glad you decided to come back here. We've missed you Gin-bug."

"Thanks, Dad," she replied, giving her father a loving, grateful look. "I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble. I really was planning to come home today and explain." She took a deep breath, giving a worried glance in the direction of the kitchen, and her still-angry mother. "It was just so complicated. I didn't know what to tell you."

He followed the direction of her gaze, then looked back at her, giving his daughter a reassuring smile. "Give your mother a little time," he said. "She's just been worried about you."

Ginny sighed, knowing that he was right. Her mother's anger had been justified, and she simply needed some time to calm down before they could talk again. Ginny knew she was going to have to endure it for a bit. "So, you knew I was working at the Ministry?" she asked, changing the subject.

Her father nodded. "Kingsley sent the owl right after Alastor agreed to hire you on. We all thought that you'd maybe give up after a few days and go back to school, so we decided to let things work themselves out."

She gave a guilty smile. "But, I didn't go back."

Her father looked at his hands. "No. And Alastor had to come by and talk your mother out of dragging you back home."

"He did?"

A small smile came to the older man's lips. "Your mother can be quite stubborn."

Ginny rolled her eyes, finding a smile that matched her father's. "I can imagine."

His smile disappeared as he continued, "Alastor told us that you needed time to sort things out."

She nodded in agreement, silently thanking her Mad-Eyed mentor. Then, she looked at her father, seeing that he looked so much older than what she remembered, and decided he needed more explanation. "I was so angry and so confused, Dad. All I knew was that I couldn't face going back to school right then. I couldn't go back and pretend that everything was normal. It just hurt so much."

The older man reached over and placed a comforting hand over hers. "I know Gin-bug. These past months haven't been easy on any of us. We all have to deal with things in our own way. Your mother knows that too."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, looking at the fire for lack of anything else to do, the busy sounds from the kitchen lending an air of comfort to the pair.

"I watched you Floo into the Ministry almost every morning," her father finally said, with a bit of guilt in his voice.

"You did?" she replied, feeling an overwhelming sense of comfort at the thought. She looked over, a smile brightening her face.

Her father smiled back, albeit guiltily. "I would go in early and stand on the balcony overlooking the foyer. You had your hood up, most of the time, but I could pick you out anyway."

A few weeks ago, knowing her father had been checking on her would have made her angry, now, however, she found that the action was rather sweet.

"I also talked with Alastor whenever he came upstairs."

She nodded, glad that her father was admitting what he'd done. After all, she was working right at the Ministry, where both her father and Percy were also employed. Now, it seemed silly to think that neither of them would have noticed her, but, back then, the thought hadn't even occurred to her.

"But, you never came down to the Archives to find me."

"Alastor forbade it. He said that you needed space and that if your mother or I pressured you, you would probably just find someplace else to go."

"He was probably right."

"He's a good man. It made us feel better that he was looking out for you."

She had to chuckle, wondering if her father had any idea that Moody's methods were completely opposite from that of her parents. She thought of the gruff older man, realizing that he'd come to mean quite a lot to her over the past few months. He hadn't doted on her, or protected her from the world. He had taught her to feel empowered and independent, and she loved him for that.

The sounds in the kitchen changed, indicating that the Weasley matriarch was nearing completion of her cooking tasks. Ginny watched her father get up slowly, motioning toward the kitchen. "I think dinner is just about ready, why don't we go set the table together and see if cooking has finally gotten your mother calmed down."

She smiled and walked with her father toward the table, taking in the tempting smell of dinner. Nothing made her mother happier than feeding people, and Ginny had been away from her mother's cooking for far too long. Something told her that, if she enjoyed every bite and went back for seconds, her mother's foul mood wouldn't stand a chance of remaining.


End file.
